Fable: Witchwood Slayers
by AbsinArtell
Summary: An expansion on the in-game book 'The Balverine Slayer' we delve more into Scarlet Robe's past, starting twenty years prior to the birth of the Hero of Oakvale, whilst learning how and why Jack of Blades returned after so many centuries away. More than anything it's an attempt to explain some plotholes the series has and through the eyes of an OC learn to accept our shortcomings.
1. Chapter 1- The Dreams of Our Youth

**(Author's notes)**

 **'So the man said "this story is a fan interpretation and holds no claim over any** **intellectual property it might pertain to, any resemblance to any real characters, either past or present is purely coincidental. As a new storyteller I am happy to receive feedback from all readers and appreciate the time you have given to this work." and began to tell us the tale...' Frank the priest explained, hopping to intrigue his rather disinterested colleague Dave.**

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Chapter 1- The Dreams of Our Youth

Deep in the forests of Witchwood lay the small town of Knothole Glade, hardened through time it produced generation after generation of proud warriors that were renowned as the fiercest fighters in the whole of Albion. Here lived a boy who dreamed of adventure, he would wonder over to the old oak gate and walls that enclosed his home and stare into the darkness of the woods.

He would imagine himself fighting the great beasts that lived out there, battling for his life against waves of vicious, howling mouths and emerging victorious to return home to the cheers and admiration that greeted the slayers whenever they would come back from a successful mission. That was all the children were ever taught, be strong and protect the town against all that would threaten it.

One day, following an excursion to repel the monsters, less than half of the slayers returned, bloodied and terrified. They had been overwhelmed by the dark spawn of the forest and for days they were trapped inside the town, surrounded on all sides by the ferocious creatures the boy came to know as balverines.

In this time of need a hero came to the townsfolk from the mainland, a powerful wizard called Maze. The children of Knothole Glade were mesmerized by this man, his eyes looked as if they had been chiseled onto his stony face, his shoulders were broader than most of the town's doorways and lines of mana flowed down his skin like rain water running down the trunk of a tree. Using his mastery of magic he brought forth torrents of fire to eradicate the beasts, however more would arrive to take the places of the fallen. In an attempt to keep the town's children safe he kept them as removed from harm as possible, locked away under supervision at the school.

After several days had passed the boy and his friends succumbed to their curiosity, the aging sorcerer had pushed the aggressors to their limit and the few remaining stragglers assembled by the main gate to hack a way in with their axe-like claws. The boys snuck past their watchful protector, out of the school and down to a secret opening in the wall, they slipped open the tight passage that had arose from the decaying wood, which had been loosened by the ever expanding tree roots.

The boy struggled to calm his nerves, whilst he knew much of the feeling was the fear of getting caught by their elders, he felt as they crawled like silent hunters through the mud that there was a pair of great, hungry eyes pushing him down. That he should have made them stop and hold their breath to listen for this ghostly stalker, but he was too proud to ever admit fear, as were his friends and their schoolmates. In their veins ran the blood of champions and no monster was ever going to convince them to turn tail and hide.

For most of them that would be the last mistake they'd ever make.

The three boys sat in the thicket, as the mage battled to save their home, their expressions a gasp at what they saw. Maze stood at the gate as four balverines closed in on him, these creature were far beyond even their childish imaginations, though likened to wolves they were not dog-legged but actually possessed knees that bent as theirs did and no paws either but instead ten fingers and toes.

What went without doubt however was that these were not human beings, the thick brown fur that covered their whole bodies and ravenous eyes that could boil water were monstrous enough but what chilled them to the bone were the teeth. Teeth longer than the boy's arms and sharper than the forks of lightening that rang out above them.

Knothole Glade was only protected by a simple oak palisade and gate, hardly an impregnable fortress, but the danger it placed its inhabitants in meant that they had fought countless times with this evil and continued to stand defiant. The thought that a single man could do that for days seemed impossible to the would-be slayers, however Maze stood without fear or reservation.

When the balverines descended upon him he didn't move a muscle, the boy leapt to his feet to warn him but before he could open his mouth the demented attackers were gone, a ripple had expanded from Maze and pushed the pouncing predators into the sky before catching fire and almost instantaneously turning them to ashes. Their bodies did not even hit the ground, their remains were blew apart in the storm and before the boys could fully comprehend what had happened the ashes had already became part of the soil and the soil had already became part of the mud.

'I believe that's the last of them.' bellowed the hero towards the chief.

'Right, I'll go check to make sure the women and children are alright and then we can discuss your pay.' He responded, trying his best to hide his anger that the slayers could not handle it on their own.

'Of course, lead on.'

The gang made a desperate retreat, it was strictly forbidden to leave the school during an emergency such as that. They waded through the puddle that had accumulated outside the entrance hole and each flung themselves back in, with the boy being the last to squeeze through. Swollen with water and made all the more difficult by his panicked state the boy was unable to slide the entrance shut again.

'Just leave it we'll do it when we get back!' one of his older friends yelled.

But he was not satisfied with that idea and tried a couple more times before his two friends pulled him away and dragged him towards the school's rear entrance which was now only metres away. He attempted to bring his feet underneath himself but the others were heaving him at such a speed he wasn't able to right himself and could only allow his companions to hurriedly carry him.

..

Whether it was real, or whether the boy's memory in his later years had been corrupted by the trauma, what appeared to happen as they dragged him towards the school was that a very dark and malicious shadow darted across the entrance they had left behind and glanced at him through the gap, paralysing the boy with so much fear that he was left completely speechless.

.

But by the time they had returned to the school he already felt the worst was behind them. Inside the school was quiet, the boys had made it back in time, they had gotten away with it. They left their muddy boots outside and joined their classmates in the main area.

'And where have you boys been?!' exclaimed their rather frantic guardian, who at that point seemed to be suffering the worst from fear; between the balverines and losing his position in the town guard for losing the children he was meant to be keeping an eye on it wasn't all that surprising.

'We were in the toilet, sir' replied one of his friends.

Though it was possibly the most terrible excuse in the world it seemed to content the supervisor, after all just because he hadn't seen them didn't mean they weren't in the school somewhere and with the rest of the guards patrolling the town he alone couldn't know where every child is all the time. However just as they thought they were off the hook…

'Their lying, they couldn't have been in the toilet all this time.' A sharp young voice called out from across the classroom, it belonged to one of the boy's classmates, a girl with eyes that saw through even the thickest of bullshit.

'What you been using the boy's toilets have you?' his friend retorted much to the amusement to their younger schoolmates.

The guard's expression had reverted back to one of panic, but it didn't matter, the boy thought, the young daredevils had covered their tracks and no evidence could link them to an escape… except for the key. As the boy sat he felt the key in his pocket, the very key to the backdoor they entered the school through, the very key it appeared the guard was frantically searching the teacher's desk for.

The guard looked back up at the truants and proceeded to check the backdoor. Seizing his opportunity he leapt to his friend, raced across the room and returned the key to the box on his teacher's desk and returning silently to his friends.

'So you did sneak out!-' the girl began to exclaim before being shushed by the daring trio.

'We saw him, he was incredible, he killed all the monsters like pew, crash, waaa' his restless companions roared as others gathered to hear of the enigmatic creatures and fearless hero. Falling silent once the guard returned, agitated and almost on the verge of tears he tore at the teacher's draws.

'Where is it! Where is the damn key! Just let me lock this damn place up until those balverines are gone! Arrrrghh! I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die! It's not in the desk, it's not in the backdoor WHERE. THE. HELL. IS. IIIIIIIT! Oh there it is.' finding it in the teacher's box the boy placed it he seem to even realise he had checked that exact box only moments ago. The weary guardian composed himself and walked with chin-up and confidently back to the backdoor.

Without missing a beat the children continued with their heart stopping tale. 'I think you'd make a good hero' a tiny girl, little older than five, spoke aloud in the direction of the boy.

'You should have seen him, when the balverines were about to attack Maze he was this close to leaping out to protect him.' his friends exaggerated to the boy's embarrassment.

'Balverines would be the last of his worries if the chief ever found out.' his judgmental classmate joked, sticking her tongue out at him.

'Don't you dare!' the boy pleaded and rose to his feet in a panic.

'Oh sir!' she giggled running to the backdoor with the boy in pursuit.

..

Suddenly the giggles and playful childishness that had filled the room had evaporated and vanished forever. The paralysis that gripped the boy before had returned, the eyes that pressed down on his very soul earlier entered through that secret entrance they had left open and now through the backdoor they forgot to lock.

Stepping over the body of their protector the balverine, wide eyed and mouth gaping with blood stood staring down at the pair. Angry that its brethren were dead, in ecstasy from the hunt it was embarking on and hungry, so very, very hungry.

They ran for the main room, screaming for help and without thinking led the beast to their friends. Hurtling down the corridor it smashed through one of the tables on its entry; shattering one of the lanterns and sending the other one that hung from the ceiling spinning and as the light danced around the then poorly lit room all the boy could make out were screams in the dark and glimpses of claws ripping through the class room.

There was banging from the front door but their guardian had obviously locked it out of fear, whatever the chief was shouting from the other side it sounded a million miles away for the children. The boy rushed in to find one of the broken table legs, the girl responded in similar fashion.

Screams surrounded the pair and as the boy shuffled nervously trying to find the terrifying figure he felt his foot brush up against something. It was the head of the little girl who called him 'hero', at that moment his knees buckled and he knelt beside the decapitated child. Tears streaming down his face, he looked up to see one of the friends he snuck out with being held up by the monster.

He held up the broken table leg and with a fleeting voice whimpered 'Let him go.'

The creature refused to comply as his friend screamed 'Help me! Help me! Please I-' he wretched and called out wildly as it bit into his arm and tossed him aside. Then the creature was resolved, the front door began to buckle as the guards attempted to break it down whilst footsteps could also be heard galloping down from the direction of the backdoor, it was time for it to finish the hunt.

It pounced with jaws open wide enough to rend the boy in two and legs strong enough that there was no evading it now that it had leapt towards him, besides the boy's legs had turned to mush, he was helpless in the face of such a ravenous entity as the one about to claim his life. This thing was unstoppable and yet when he grew up he was supposed to kill several of them at once? How? How could anyone stop something so powerful? He closed his eyes and clenched before feeling a somewhat unexpected sensation.

He felt warm, a fleshy squelch rang out in front of him and he opened his eyes to find himself covered in the creature's blood and his classmate stood above him. The broken table leg she had been gripping had passed through the roof of the balverine's mouth and jutted out of the top of its head. She had killed it with only the stake she held in her hand and as she pulled it free blood gushed out onto them both, soaking her gown red.

The door collapsed and all fell silent, parents rushed in to try and find their children but broke out into wails of pain, horrible sounds of grief that the boy would never, ever forget.

'Guards I don't want anyone in here you understand, not even parents, get everyone out!'

The guards did as the chief asked of them and needless to say many resisted, but broken hearts make broken people and just as the boy could no longer stand, neither could many of the townsfolk after seeing what had happened in that school. That day, not a single smile was worn following Maze's victory, the loss of most of the town's slayers and its offspring was a day in the history of Knothole Glade that nobody in Albion would ever forget.

'What about them?' one of the men asked pointing towards the two.

The chief hesitantly approached, the survivors frozen in place, ready to recoil from him at any given chance. They had been shaken up far too much to accept his expressions of sincerity.

'What happened here? How did this happen?' he asked as he knelt beside the girl.

The boy sprung to life, his eyes widened glaring up at her fearfully every inch of his being believe she would tell them it was his fault. 'I don't know… it snuck in through the back and killed our protector.' she responded reluctantly.

'It did? But then…who?.. did you..' for all the men it clicked at once, this young girl had killed a balverine single handed. They looked among themselves unsure of what to think as Maze entered through the front door unopposed. His eyes drifted across the room, analysing what he saw. For many he seemed cold and unfeeling but the boy noticed something different in him than when he was at the gate, though calm and calculating back then he spoke slow and wearily having seen what had become of the school.

A groan came from the corner of the room, it was the boy who had been bit on the arm. 'Is… is it gone?' the boy whimpered teary eyed. 'We showed him didn't we.'

Maze slowly approached lifting the boy and examining his arm. 'Did you see it Maze? We're heroes now, right? We can be like you, I can be a slayer.. a balverine slayer.' the boy staggered over, to be beside his friend.

'I killed my first one, we're the youngest slayers ever, you know, so that mean I can't die… doesn't it? there's no way.. everyone's gonna know… everyone's gonna cheer for us. Aren't they?' the boy stretched out his hand to comfort his friend before a broad and strong hand stopped him.

His eyes darted up to meet Maze's stare. Maze moved his hand away and lifting the injured young slayer he held his palm over the child's face and as a cooling blue light passed over him the bite soon stopped bleeding, the tears fell away from his cheeks and he closed his eyes, never to open them again.

'Did you heal him? Is he going to be alright?' the boy asked, after all that had happened he was holding on for something to be okay, for something to be alright, anything.

'Were you bitten?' the hero replied. The boy, not fully understanding, shook his head. Maze lay the body back down at his feet and all too suddenly the boy realised that his friend was gone. He broke into tears and mourned, as a cascade of grief swept over him.

'Chief, might I suggest something?' Maze asked, hoping his proposal wouldn't appear to be taking advantage of the local leader. 'You are short on fighters and with this latest development you have lost much of the new generation.'

'Make your point hero and be done with it.' the chief was obviously no mood to talk disguisedly.

'Open a Cullis Gate in Knothole Glade and the Guild will protect the town until a more permanent solution can be found.'

'I imagine we'll end up with quite the debt to pay, you people aren't the type to do something like that for free.'

'All I ask for now is that I may take the girl to train as a guild apprentice.'

Whether he was still in shock looking at the remains of the pupils or if he was simply speculating over Maze's real agenda the chief paused briefly 'it's not my choice, you'll have to ask her parents, but I find myself in a position where I can only accept such an offer.'

'They're dead.' the two turned towards the still bloodstained former schoolgirl. 'My mother died giving birth to me, my dad was one of the slayers that never came back. If it's okay, I'd like to go.'

'Very well.' Maze looked back down at the boy, who still clutched onto the wooden stake, still trembled over the body of his fallen friend. 'What about you, boy? Do you think you have the stomach?'

He wiped the tears from his face and looked up at Maze blankly. 'Suit yourself then.' Maze said turning away.

'Wait!' The boy spoke up. 'I do have a family, but I know I can't stay here, not anymore.'

'I see and you think the Guild might be the place for you to go then?' Maze asked turning his nose up and anticipating an answer that might please him.

'I don't know if there is a place for me.' he responded solemnly.

'Well then, if you indeed wish to embark on this kind of training you'll need to pack your belongings and meet us tomorrow morning at the gate. You'll need a title to… hmm… how about… Drifter? I'd say that seems to sum you up pretty nicely.'

'Erm… can't I just pick one later?' he objected.

'Nonsense, boy. Your parents didn't name you _later_ did they? Or was your name just "The boy" before now?' Maze joked dismissively before turning to the girl. 'And you-'

'I do have one in mind.' the girl interjected, hoping to avoid a conflict over her name also.

'Really? Well, do share it with us then.'

The girl looked down at her bloodstained robe and threw away the splintered wooden stake, there was no going back for her either. Her family was already gone and now she was being given a new life, a new purpose and identity. She returned her eyes to the mage ready to find out what was in store for the both of them.

'Scarlet Robe.'


	2. Chapter 2- What We Take, and Leave

**(Author's notes)**

 **'So what happened then mate?' a delirious Dave had awoken, deciding to atleast humor Frank.**

 **'Well I only found out today because the guy buggered off for more than a month and was too lazy to write a thing.' Frank ranted, still viably frustrated with the storyteller that had told him this story. 'But when he did thank everyone for all the friendly feedback he had received and insisted that not all of the chapters will be depressing chronicles of wild beasts massacring children... well certainly not every chapter anyway.'**

 **'...Really?' Dave inserted, unconvinced.**

 **'Yes, well it may dip in and out... I don't know. I haven't even heard the rest of the story yet, personally I think the guy looks like he can hardly get out of bed, says he'll update the story every 4 weeks but I don't think he even knows the ending himself! Anyway...'**

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Chapter 2- What We Take, and Leave

He trudged a long and sobering path home, following the guards as the cold mud squelched between his toes. He became so lost in the rhythm of their footsteps that he didn't lift his head, nor speak a word until they were at his homestead.

Upon arriving at the door not a sound was made by either of his escorts, his head remained bowed but he could somehow feel the words stop in their throats. Simple partings such as 'you take care now' and 'stay safe' that before would flow forth like reflex had no place now, the reassurances and 'you'll be alright now's were empty, nobody really believed that it would all be okay in the end. Everyone was scared silent. Finally a strong palm clasped his shoulder and rubbed warmth into him, they knew he could sense that fear in them and more than that; the unbearable guilt they felt in not being able to offer any kind of comfort to him.

With his other arm the guard extended towards the door and gave it a loud, firm knock. They waited and waited, once again the guard reached out but halted as the handle fidgeted. It turned back and forth slowly, reluctantly, as if violently resisting, and in a similar fashion they too began to tremble and shake with building terror.

The door flew open and a pale, thin haired man stood red-eyed and weak kneed in the doorway. The knot of doubt and fear that had balled up in the boy's stomach eased, his family was safe. The relief he felt reflected somewhat in his father who fell to his knees and sobbed.

'Oh thank you Avo! Thank you!' The man prayed and wept as he pulled his son close, incomprehensibly grateful that his son that was one of the children who escaped.

The house was warm but distant, as if it had grown whilst he was gone, and in this much larger version of his home light didn't seem to extend nearly as far as it did previously. Darkness had permeated into every corner, it lined the walls and roof ready to consume him and his kin when they weren't looking. It was in that house that he realised fear had made a sanctuary of his mind.

His father shepherded him in, thanked the guards and closed the door behind them. By a stove, near the fireplace, his mother spooned a plate of food together and placed it on the table at the centre of the room.

The boy merely remained where his father had guided him whereupon he returned to hug and cradle him for the next hour. His two older brothers had died before he was born and his mother had suffered several miscarriages. After many years the emotional burden became too much for his mother, the end result being an extreme distance between the two as if she anticipated heartbreak, like his death was an inevitability and so she was never to let herself become too close. His father by contrast became overly protective and made him feel like he was made out of glass.

He hugged his father back, knowing he had to reassure him that he was okay.

'Right, now go and get something down you, everything'll be alright now.' he said, wiping his tears frantically.

'Dad, I have something to say… Maze has invited me to join the Heroes Guild.'

The tone rang with uncertainty, could he become a Hero like Maze? Every fibre of his being screamed no, if he were to fight the balverines as he did it could only result in his death. But it was the only path that was left to him and no matter his father's protests he wouldn't turn from it, yet it wasn't he who was the first to reply to this news.

'Is that what you want?' asked his mother, her voice floating across from her solitary position at the other end of the room. He could only nod defiantly, expecting one of them to convince him otherwise. But neither did, their son was one of only two survivors and it wasn't there place to deny him. It was, after all, the duty of the inhabitants to protect the village.

In the morning the boy gathered his belongings, he had scarcely left the protection of the town's walls and even then he had only travelled as far as the Temple of Avo. He had never journeyed further than the island, he had seen nothing beyond pine, oak or redwood. But all he had to show for his time was a bagful of hand-me-down linen clothes, some pocket money and a strand of coarse white hair that he rolled between his finger and thumb.

He had barely slept at all, whenever he closed his eyes he felt as if a great hand was gripping his abdomen and so much of the night he spent rubbing the area just below his rib cage. As he contemplated through the night he realised that it wasn't born out of what he saw at the school, nor was it some kind of vengeful restlessness that was impatiently willing him forward. It was a somewhat welcome anxiety, a chance to prove himself.

Placing the hair in the burlap bag he resolved to begin this adventure he found himself embarking on. His room was at the rear of the house, hidden behind a wall rather than a door. As he turned the corner to leave his attention was immediately caught by something resting on the dining table. It was a small unassuming wooden axe, he recognised it as a gift his father had made him, when he was young. His father held a good reputation within the town as a very capable carpenter, a valuable asset to a woodland dwelling people such as theirs. Being drawn to the childhood toy that entertained those early fantasies of balervine slaying he noticed something soft laying beneath it.

A mother's love is not easily repressed and no matter how much one tries to guard themselves, to always expect the worst, nothing can stop the heart from caring. Beneath the toy axe was a scarf. He knew it was left for him by his mother and a melancholic haze seemed to freeze the world around him, he hadn't planned on saying goodbyes to either of his parents, in the wake of yesterday's events it felt too unfair, that so many others were robbed of the chance to say farewell stirred up a great sense of guilt in him.

He stepped out into the bitter morning air and buried his face into the scarf. Everything was still and empty. Feeling as if he was still caught in that same haze that had gripped him before the boy proceeded towards the main gate. It was hard to tell whether it was an atmosphere of tension or grief that held the town in such complete silence, before it became very apparent. Having reached the hill whereupon he could see his school the boy saw clear as day the footprints he had left behind in the mud. His heart began to race, the marks where he had been dragged by his desperate friends were still there!

A women's voice lifted over his shoulder to break his trance, 'Here.'

Spinning to face her he was greeted by half a pie, perhaps even more than half, wrapped in linen, being presented to him.

'I heard that you're leaving today and… I can't imagine what you went through, you poor thing. Please, take it. After all you've been through maybe it'd help, I'm sorry that it's only leftovers, I guess I made a little too much..' her hands stretched the bundled pastry towards him, shakily.

He turned back towards the muddy footprints only to find that they had vanished, almost without a trace. His sleep deprived and excitable mind was clearly getting the better of him. The woman continued to hold out the pie towards him, still shaking. Hurriedly he flew towards the main gate in an all-out sprint willing himself to just leave.

Images and voices rushing through his head and a memory, the day he found the white hair that lay inside his bag, the day they first discovered the hole in the wall, the day he and his friends first snuck out after curfew…

His body abruptly rocked and he was thrown backwards as a displeased voice rung above him 'Watch where you're going, boy! Maybe I shouldn't have bothered with you.' he dizzily looked up to find Maze frowning over him. 'Oh yes and you forgot these.' as his vision readjusted the boy became paralysed with fear, dangling from Maze's hand were the boots he had left at his school's backdoor.

His muscles tightened, anticipating Maze to disapprove of taking him back to the guild, anticipating uproar as he let the townsfolk know it was he and his friends who had led the balverine to it's prey. The saliva in his mouth dried and as his knees began to quake and eyes water the old wizard opened his mouth once again.

'There's no reason to look at me like that, you're fourteen aren't you? Well that's what Scarlet says. You're responsible for your own actions now, I have no intentions of chastising you, or mollycoddling either for that matter.'

The boy looked over at the newly named Scarlet Robe who simply gazed up at the gate. She of course already knew that they had snuck out, none of this came as a surprise to her yet still he was baffled. It was then that he realised; over the course of a single day he had become a man, they were past the point of a simple stern lecture and he knew that was the feeling he had been experiencing deep inside, an aging process that had happened in the blink of an eye.

'Now that all's said and done, are you ready to leave now, Drifter?', it jarred him to hear him call him by that name. It came as jerking remembrance that that was his new name, he nodded in approval. 'Right well then, both of you, take my hand' a strong yet wrinkled palm invited the boy now, known as Drifter, to take it.

Placing his palm on top of the sorcerer's he looked out towards the hole he and his friends used to sneak through so often. It always reminded him of the strange strand of hair he found years ago, the day he was saved by what he could only recall as a bizarre otherworldly white flash.

He felt a weight delicately placed on top of his and Maze's hands, it was the hand of his most recent saviour. The hand that had slew their tormentor, the hand that could have so easily been bitten in doing so and led her to suffer the same fate as the boy Maze had so readily dealt with. Drifter didn't know much about what to expect from the guild or life at all beyond Knothole Glade, he did however know more than anything that having Scarlet there with him gave him strength, hope.

Drifter would never forget her hand on top of his in that moment, as a circle of blue light engulfed them and they began to fade, succumbing to the magic that would deliver them to their new home. In years to come he would often think back to that memory, but despite how clearly he remembered Scarlet, Maze, the power of the guild seal and the family he left behind, the names of his fallen friends and schoolmates faded away. Upon his return family members of the victims would unknowingly remind him from time to time, but the vast number of their names became ostensibly forcibly locked away like a dirty thought.

…

In an instant they found themselves stood in what appeared to be some sort of stony chimney, beneath their feet a pulsing circle baring a distinctive emblem beamed a powerful aquatic light. Maze turned to reveal an opening behind him that led into a large, grand building. His two young companions however were in no fit shape to move, it wasn't the unsettlingly void-like transition that had peeled away their world to reveal this confined and intrusive new one so much as the sensation that had accompanied it that had the pair reeling. Drifter staggered, feeling as if he had been hung upside down, shaken and then squeezed.

Though he was still seeing double he attempted to push on, as both Mazes looked as though their notably short patience was wearing thin. His feet however didn't appear to share his desire as they dazedly guided him face first into part of the brickwork.

Looking up he secretly enjoyed seeing Scarlet similarly struggle as she rested, holding herself up against the wall across from him. 'Well I must say that's a first, perhaps we should bring initiates in through the door next time, Maze. Here let me give you a hand.' before he could even register whether or not he was experiencing concussion Drifter felt a strong tug on his arm that lifted him to his feet.

Before him stood a bald man, similar in age to Maze, yet not nearly as imposing and though his stomach was still turning Drifter felt warmed by a smile that peaked out from behind the man's bushy white moustache. On his forehead was a tattoo of the same seal that marked the floor they found themselves standing on.

Maze addressed the man only briefly before disappearing into the guild, 'I have to speak to Drune, I'll leave these two in your hands.'

'Well then, who wants dinner?'

'..Dinner?' puzzled Scarlet steadying herself to her feet once more.

'Yes, one of the problems that comes with using the Guild Seal, it's not an instantaneous transfer. It takes a while for your essence to return to a materialised form. Come, you can have one the pupils show you around tomorrow, for now we'll get some food in you.'

He turned his back to them and preceded into the building, he seemed a much more apt guide than Maze, his even his gentle footsteps and posture evoked a warm feeling of calmness and sincerity from the pair. Exchanging a reassuring look between them they followed him into a large entrance hall. The walls glowed bronze as mounted torches illuminated the ancient stones and vivaciously red carpets and tapestries, a duel staircase cast a large shadow over the elderly man as he continued on deeper into the guild.

'I am the Guildmaster, I will be in charge of your training, unfortunately there isn't much room for you to stay but hopefully we'll be able to arrange something for the both of you.' he casually explained, his voice progressively being drowned out by a body of noise that echoed ahead of them.

They descended a flight of stairs to discover a mess hall brimming with feasting and revelry overlaid by erratic unintelligible shouts, the air so thick with the smell of alcohol that it almost clung to their clothes. However, something about it all drew them in, that vibrant attractive chaos was like a moving painting.

The Guildmaster stopped and gave a telling look. Scarlet and Drifter delved into the hall. There was quite fortunately one man supervising the ruckus, from behind a long bar top a bald, moustached man- yes another one- realised the two were not from the guild, though this was no great feat as they did appear to stand out like cats in a pond.

They gave him their request for food and sat at the bar, it felt strange to Drifter to eat that way. Somewhere in the back their food was being prepared, somewhere they could not see it. Whenever the hunters had returned the meat was cooked on a spit in the tavern so that all may admire the fruits of their labour and that all may be able to witness the animal that had died so that they may live, it was a relationship with food that was completely unique to their isolated culture of woodsman and hunters.

He looked subtly towards Scarlet who said nothing, he and his friends hadn't been aware that she had lost both of her parents, in fact it went without saying that he was the only one of her classmates to ever find out that truth. She had been so jokey with him back at the school and perhaps if Maze hadn't asked her they'd have never known. His fleeting glance caught her stoically staring ahead of her, lost in concentration. Was she practicing? Contemplating how to hide the evidence of what she, no they, had been though? The mask she had donned before was gone and maybe her thoughts were occupied solely by the idea of replacing it.

A thump rippled through the table and Drifter peered over his shoulder at the boy that had sat next to him. His eyes looked as if he had barely just woken up, his hair was dishevelled and whilst he wasn't drunk he had a loud, exaggerated way of speaking with every word dripping with egotism.

'Oh newbies, you should see the looks on your faces.' His eyes stayed fixed to the surface of the bar as if trying his hardest to evoke some kind of mysterious aura. 'So who are you exactly?' Scarlet inquired, not at all sold by his apparent suave demeanour. 'Oh just a simple man, I'm sure you'll find out in due time.'

'A simple man? Aren't you our age?' Drifter asked, mirroring Scarlets less than impressed expression.

'Don't pay any attention to Ester he's only been here a couple of months himself' a voice called from the other side of the bar.

'I may not have been here long but I have experienced more of the world than some people do in a lifetime.'

'Ester?'

'Yes, they call me… Ester. Y'know it's like jester but shortened thought I'd start a trend by shorting a name from the start not instead of the end. Otherwise it'd be something like Jest or Jes.'

'..Right.' Drifter and Scarlet tried to look away out of being lost for words, yet he didn't seem to want to drop the issue.

'Okay then what's your name then?' He fired pointedly at Drifter.

'My… my name's Drifter.'

'Drifter? Well that's not a much better a name is it?'

'Hey come on that's not fair I didn't even get to pick it.'

'Are you always this winy? You won't last two seconds with that attitude.'

'Oh what and you're some kind of expert?'

'That I am, I'm gonna ace this training and become a hero, marry a Lady and retire to our big fat estate.'

'You do realise that means finding a Lady that would be able to stand you.' Scarlet piped up from over Drifter's shoulder.

'Ha! Don't you worry they'll be lining up, just you wait.'

Drifter then felt a presence behind them; he turned to find the Guildmaster and two hooded associates. 'Well it's nice to see that you're making friends. Ester, as I remember you still have a spare bed in your room don't you?'

'Erm.. yeah I-'

'Then I assume you won't object if I move him in with you then?'

And just like that their training began Drifter moved in with Ester and Scarlet was placed with another bright young prospect in the girls' dorm. That night he rested easy, exhausted from sleep deprivation but more importantly his mind was at peace. In that new world he was able to start again with new friends, a new goal and with time he would find the tools to correct the mistakes he had made in his previous life. Little did the young apprentice know how important the next day would prove in that journey…


End file.
